


You call me so many names

by Original_Cypher



Series: Teen Wolf drabbles (mostly gonna be Sterek) [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:58:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Original_Cypher/pseuds/Original_Cypher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Seriously?!” Stiles stares, wide eyed, at his best friend and Isaac. “The plan is: to leave me alone with Derek? <i>Again?</i> Haven't we learned our lesson?!”<br/>Derek is looking absolutely disinterested. Erica is frowning at Stiles. “What do you mean?”<br/>Stiles does a double take. “Everytime Sourwolf and I end up alone somewhere <i>things</i> happen!” He flails at them. “Bad things!”</p><p>**</p><p>In which Stiles and Derek are left alone. <i>Again.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	You call me so many names

“Seriously?!” Stiles stares, wide eyed, at his best friend and Isaac. “The plan is: to leave me alone with Derek? _Again?_ Haven't we learned our lesson?!”

Clearly, Scott hasn't. “Huh?”

Derek is looking absolutely disinterested. Erica is frowning at Stiles. “What do you mean?”

Stiles does a double take. “Everytime Sourwolf and I end up alone somewhere _things_ happen!” He flails at them. “Bad things. Deadly, venomous things with fangs, for example. And a _tail_!”

“I'm over that.” Jackson pipes up. He almost has Derek's facial expression replicated. It would be adorably sweet if Stiles wasn't trying to get a point across.

“ _Great._ ” He deadpans. “I still don't like our odds.” He knows he looks like a sulky cat with its ears drawn back, but he doesn't care much. He's going to be in a car with the werewolf. There's _history_ to that.

“I'll protect you.” Derek says flatly.

Stiles slants him a look. “Pshh, please. I'll protect _you,_ Furryface.” There's also history to _that_. Stiles keeping Derek from getting poisoned. Derek keeping him from getting mauled to death. Not drowning. Not getting chopped up with a thing right out of Edward Scissorhands.

Scott is watching them both with the hint of an amused smirk. “You'll be fine. Just try not to kill each other.”

Derek makes a face at Scott. “Ah.”

Stiles thinks – _Oh yeah? How? By punching her in the face?_ – and pictures the expression again without looking at Derek. He bites his lip and tries not to laugh. “I promise nothing.” He huffs and picks up the bag pack containing the herbs and wires, slings it across his shoulders and pats his pocket to make sure he has his lighter, and his backup lighter – once was enough, he learned that lesson. “So, while ' _I Drive A Porsche_ ' goes off with you? I get stuck with Mr ' _I'm the Alpha_ ', right? Until Erica calls and gives us the all clear?”

“Hey!” Jackson protests. “Why does he get a Mister and I don't?”

Derek snorts. “Because I'm the Alpha.”

Stiles stares at him, because... _seriously_. And then he gives Jackson a sunny smile. “Because he's prettier than you.” he says, before he grabs Derek's elbow and drags him off towards the Camaro. He grins at Derek's snort when Jackson lets out an offended noise in their wake. “Gotta love that scandalized look on his face.”

“Uh huh.” Derek rounds the car and slides behind the wheel. He glances at Stiles. “That why you said that?”

“Oh, no. I totally meant it. You're much, _much_ hotter than Jackson.” Stiles nods to himself, then smirks. “Which must piss him off so bad, because he works at it so much harder.”

They watch the cars file out of the parking lot one by one, the Camaro staying behind until it's time for them to come into play. “So... Scott said we should try not to kill each other.” Derek ducks an eyebrow at him. “Think we can pull that off?"

"How long do we have to wait?" Stiles fumbles with the dials on the center console, trying to find the seat controls. He wants to push his back to get more leg room.

"An hour and a half, give or take." Derek answers, and Stiles' expression twitch between amused and frustrated when it's the drivers seat that jerks backwards, startling the werewolf.

He meets Derek's eyes. "Well... Like I said... _things_ usually happen."

Derek takes in his smirk, then eventually grins, reaching out and tugging Stiles closer by a belt loop. “You said _bad_ things.”

“Well...” Stiles slides across Derek's lap effortlessly, enjoying the feeling of strong hands coming to frame his hips. “By now, I know from experience that blue balls can't kill you...” he muses, trying not to get distracted by Derek's fingers deftly flicking his jeans open. “but I'm pretty sure they're still not good for your health.”

“Uh huh.” Derek leans in to bite Stiles' chest over his t-shirt fondly, his hands slipping under the fabric and thumb tracing the happy trail he finds there. He brushes his lips to Stiles', then kisses his way to his ear, then his neck. “Maybe I can help remedy that.”

“ _Help?!_ ” Stiles cries indignantly. “Please, you're the cause of-oh... _god!!_ ”

Derek keeps stroking, releasing the fresh bruise on Stiles' neck from his teeth long enough to laugh, low and quiet against his skin. “You call me so many names. It's hard to keep up.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> .... I'm sorry?


End file.
